


Don't You Forget About Me

by spinyfruit



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Breakfast Club, Detention, Hurt/Comfort, I just wanted to write Gilbert as Bender okay, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide attempt, M/M, Some Fluff, Teen Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-23
Updated: 2014-07-23
Packaged: 2018-02-10 01:34:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2005980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spinyfruit/pseuds/spinyfruit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Breakfast Club AU – with criminal!Prussia, nerd!Canada, jock!Hungary, popular!France, and punk!England. PruCan and FrUK, pre-Bad Touch Trio. – ONESHOT.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't You Forget About Me

**Author's Note:**

> Note: Although I based this off of the movie The Breakfast Club, and the characters are sort of filling in the places of the five original characters, I had to change quite a bit from the original movie characters to suit Hetalia characters. I followed the same storyline of the movie, and kept similar backgrounds for the characters, but there are obviously going to be some differences. I did end up inserting quite a few snippets of original dialogue, but that's just because it's awesome and I couldn't top it.
> 
> Just another quick note: For those of you who don't know the movie, the title of the story comes from the song played at the beginning and end: "Don't You (Forget About Me)" by Simple Minds. I highly recommend listening to it if you haven't heard it, it's quite wonderful.
> 
> And lastly: Mr. Laurinaitis is Lithuania (Just so no one's confused when they're reading), and I changed the setting to modern day.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this little fic :)

Matthew jumped when he heard the engine stop, and his eyes darted to the car window. He was at school now.

“Matthew,” His mother’s clipped voice called from the driver’s seat.

He turned to her and clasped his fingers together nervously.

“This is only going to be a onetime thing, right? I hope you won’t make this a habit,” She said and tightened her grip of the steering wheel.

“No, of course not,” Matthew replied quietly and looked solemnly at his hands. Then he added, “It was an accident.”

“It doesn’t matter,” She pointed one sharp nail at him. Matthew flinched, but didn’t turn around and she continued, “Now since you _have_ to be here for eight hours, you might as well use the time studying.”

“I don’t know if we’re allowe –”

“Find a way,” His mother interrupted and flashed her cold blue eyes at him.

Matthew was quiet or a moment.

“Do we understand each other?” She asked and twisted the key in the ignition.

Matthew sighed, and whispered, “Yes.” Then he grabbed his backpack and fled the car.

He heard his mom’s car speeding away, but he didn’t bother to turn around and just kept walking up the steps.

Matthew just wanted to get through detention peacefully and quietly. He didn’t want to upset his parents again. Getting _in_ to detention was bad enough, if he made any more trouble…

Matthew sighed again.

 

* * *

 

He was the first one there, but that wasn’t much of a surprise. 

It did mean he got the first pick of seats, so he chose one in the middle, and set his backpack in the chair of the desk next to him.

A few minutes passed, and one person showed up.

Matthew stared at him.

_Oh, it was that strange boy who wore a lot of black. He’s from England, isn’t he?_

The boy, who had drawn his black hoodie far over his head so his green, eyeliner-rimmed eyes were all that Matthew could see, made a beeline for the very back of the classroom.

Matthew turned around to watch him.

The boy violently pulled out notebooks and pens from his messenger bag, and slammed them on the table.

He noticed Matthew was staring at him, and narrowed his eyes.

“What are you looking at, wanker?” He spat, and Matthew noticed he was wearing a nose-ring.

Immediately, Matthew blushed, mumbled a hurried, “nothing,” before turning around and facing forward.

He could hear a few more strange English words muttered from the boy behind him, but Matthew didn’t bother deciphering what they were. Instead he pulled out his AP French textbook and started moving his eyes across the page – not really reading, but at least he didn’t feel as awkward.

A few minutes later two other people walked in. This time Matthew knew their names, since they were both so popular.

But Francis Bonnefoy was a surprise. 

Matthew looked at him a bit wide-eyed as he strolled into the room wearing fashionable dark-wash jeans and oxfords, a crisp white button-down rolled at the elbows, and a few expensive-looking necklaces dangling around his fair neck.

Francis didn’t even seem unhappy to be here. He was talking to Elizaveta, the captain of the girls’ soccer team, and was smiling carelessly as he looked around the room.

But when he looked to the very back of the classroom, Matthew noticed his smile broadened, and his dark blue eyes shifted emotions.

Elizaveta didn’t bother looking around before sitting down in one of the front desks of the classroom, and dropping her bag to the floor.

It made a loud sound, and Matthew couldn’t help but jump when he heard it.

Then she looked over her shoulder and yelled, “Sorry, sorry! I forgot I had weights in there.”

“Oh, it’s fine,” Matthew mumbled with a smile, but she was already on her phone.

Francis stood next to Elizaveta, and he shifted his weight in the direction of the Goth boy twice – no three times – but when his face seemed like he had made up his mind, he was interrupted.

“Francis, check this out! Those two Italian twins you were talking about are trying out for the soccer team!” Elizaveta waved her phone.

“Oh, the cute ones?” Francis asked and pulled out the seat next to her to sit down.

Matthew watched them for a bit, then glanced at the clock.

It was 7:00 – where was Mr. Braginsk –

The door slammed open, and Matthew immediately turned his head to the front of the classroom.

Matthew recognized this person too – everyone at school knew him. It was Gilbert Bielschmidt. He was the school’s infamous bad boy.

He walked through the classroom, very smug, in his typical attire: steel-toed boots, charcoal-grey jeans, an oversized jeans jacket layered over an oversized button-down (unbuttoned, of course), and a blank tank top.

Matthew heard the boy behind him mutter, “bloody hell,” and he saw Francis and Elizaveta watch Gilbert with pursed lips and rolling eyes. But Matthew just stared at him.

He wondered if he was the only one who didn’t think Gilbert was as bad as his reputation.

I mean, he may dress like an idiot, and bleach his hair that ridiculous silver color ( _it has to be bleached, right?),_ but he didn’t seem like he was a bad person.

Matthew looked down at the table and tried to hide his blush.

Then again, Matthew had treasured memories of Gilbert when they were both in third-grade.

“Birdie.”

Matthew’s heart stopped and he snapped out of his memory when he noticed Gilbert’s chunky black, boots were standing next to his desk.

He looked up slowly at Gilbert’s wide grin and bright red eyes.

“Um, what is it?” He asked, and he felt his breath cut short.

This was the first time they’ve talked in so long.

Gilbert’s grin broadened and he leaned over Matthew’s desk.

“You’re in my seat,” He said and placed one of his hands, wrapped in a tattered fingerless glove, an inch away from Matthew’s.

“Oh, I,” Matthew stuttered, his face growing red. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know the seats were assigned.”

He scooted his chair out and grabbed his backpack.

“These seats aren’t assigned! Gilbert’s just being an asshole… _as usual_ ,” Elizaveta yelled, and fixed her well-decorated varsity jacket.

“I’m not being an asshole! That’s my seat! I’m here every week and I always sit there,” Gilbert clarified, and quickly rearranged another chair near his own. He sat down and placed his legs on the free chair. “It’s only fair the awesome me gets his usual seat.”

“It’s so sad that you’re actually proud of being here,” Francis replied with a condescending sigh, and fixed his small, blond ponytail.

“Whatever,” Gilbert huffed, and brushed some of his silver hair away from his eyes.

Matthew had taken the seat in the row across from him and was still watching.

Then Gilbert’s eyes met his and they made awkward eye contact. Or at least it was awkward for Matthew.

It didn’t last more than two seconds, because as soon as Matthew met his wide, curious red eyes, he darted back to his textbook, and started rereading the same passage.

Then the door swung open again, and everyone looked to the front of the classroom.

The assistant principal, Mr. Ivan Braginsky, strolled through – his usual complacent smile haunting his cold, blank face.

“Well, well! It looks like everyone’s here!” He said and folded his arms behind his back.

No one said anything, but Matthew caught Gilbert clenching his fists from the corner of my eye.

“Let’s see…” Mr. Braginsky drawled as he pulled up his sleeve to check his watch. “It is now 7:06. You have exactly eight hours and fifty-four minutes to sit and think about _why_ you’re here.”

Gilbert groaned.

Mr. Braginsky looked in Gilbert’s direction, and Matthew swore he saw something evil pass over the man’s calm expression.

“You will not talk,” He started with a quick smile, and walked down the aisle. “You will not move.”

Mr. Braginsky reached Gilbert’s desk and yanked the extra chair from under his legs.

“And _you_ will not sleep.”

Gilbert stared up at Mr. Braginsky’s tall, looming figure, but Matthew couldn’t tell what sort of expression the assistant principle had from his back.

Then Mr. Braginsky backed away from Gilbert, and walked back to the front of the classroom.

Matthew watched Gilbert cross his arms and frown.

“Today we will try something different. You will each write an essay – no less than a thousand words – describing to me who you are,” Mr. Braginsky said and clapped his hands once.

All of a sudden, another person rushed through the door: this one frantic and carrying a stack of notebook paper and a bundle of pencils.

“Oh, is that…?” Matthew muttered quietly as he stared at the new figure running up to the assistant principle.

“Mr. Laurinaitis, yeah,” Gilbert finished and folded his knee to his chest. He dug through his boot and pulled out a lighter. “He’s scared of Ivan.”

So it was his AP European History teacher.

“Ivan?” Matthew asked and observed silently as Gilbert turned the flame on and off and on and off continuously.

Gilbert shut the lighter off and tucked it back into his boot when Mr. Laurinaitis got closer to our desks.

“That’s the asshole’s first name,” Gilbert said casually.

Mr. Laurinaitis dropped a few pieces of paper and a pencil on each of their desks, and lingered near Matthew’s.

“Matthew, are you doing okay?” He asked, and Matthew couldn’t help but flush in embarrassment.

“Y-yes, I’m fine,” Matthew replied with a smile, and was relieved that Mr. Laurinaitis was too afraid to loiter to ask any other questions.

When he left however, Matthew felt Gilbert staring at him, and he turned to his right to check.

Gilbert had pulled out his lighter again, but only held it in his hand as he stared at Matthew intently and very curiously. He looked like he wanted to say something – he looked like he was about to – but when he opened his mouth Mr. Braginsky started talking again.

Matthew breathed a sigh of relief.

“So, with all of that said. I will be in my room across the hall,” The assistant principle said and Mr. Laurinaitis stood by his side. “If you are all as quiet as mice we shouldn’t have a problem.”

He turned around to leave, but then Gilbert spoke up.

“Hey Ivan!” He yelled and Mr. Braginsky looked over his shoulder. “Did you raid Stalin’s closet or something? I didn’t know communism was back in style.”

Matthew’s face paled, but he heard Francis’s distinct laugh mixing with Elizaveta’s in the front.

“If you come by next week, I’d be happy to answer your question,” Mr. Braginsky smiled, and turned on his heel to continue his way out of the classroom.

“Whatever,” Gilbert mumbled and kicked his boots up on top of the desk.

He pulled out a cigarette from his pocket, and held the lighter to it. Then he stopped and squinted.

“What’s that smell?” He asked and everyone looked around.

Matthew looked behind his seat at the Goth boy sitting in the back. He was hunched over the table, his black hood still drawn, and painting his nails with black polish.

“You carry black nail polish with you, Arthur?” Francis asked, and raised an eyebrow.

“Fuck you,” Arthur replied and didn’t bother to look up.

“That’s rather forward of you.”

Arthur’s head shot up and an angry red spread across his cheeks.

“Fuck you!” He shouted louder, and his green eyes flashed menacingly.

“Well, since you asked nicely,” Francis grinned and crossed his legs gracefully.

“Damn frog! Why don’t you go back to braiding your friend’s hair?” Arthur shot back and returned to painting his nails.

Everyone stopped when they noticed Mr. Laurinaitis jogging into the classroom.

“Ah, sorry to disturb you guys,” He began and fidgeted with his fingers. “But, um, Mr. Braginsky insists that you keep your voices down.”

Francis looked back to Arthur and wagged his finger.

“And also, he asked if everyone would please give me their cellphones,” He continued nervously and stopped by the front desks for theirs.

Elizaveta tossed hers without a fight, but Mr. Laurinaitis had to physically pull the phone from Francis’s hands.

Matthew handed his teacher his iPhone, and Mr. Laurinaitis hovered near Gilbert’s desk.

“I don’t have one,” Gilbert muttered, the unlit cigarette bouncing in his mouth.

“Oh, okay,” Mr. Laurinaitis said and quickly grasped Arthur’s Blackberry from the corner of his desk. “You’ll get these back at the end of detention, I promise.”

He offered a reassuring smile at everyone, but they all ignored it, and he left the room quietly.

 

* * *

 

With his mother’s stern voice ringing in his head, Matthew immediately started writing his essay. He didn’t know what to write really. He didn’t know who he was and definitely no one else knew; but Matthew figured if he wrote something, then he could start studying. 

After he wrote one sentence he smelled smoke.

Matthew looked to his right and saw Gilbert smoking his cigarette and writing on a piece of paper.

Matthew smiled slightly.

 _Maybe Gilbert won’t get into anymore trouble if he writes the essay_ , he thought.

A few minutes passed and Matthew wrote three sentences. He wasn’t getting far.

He looked to his right again, and now Gilbert was folding each of his pieces of paper. Matthew kept watching and realized Gilbert had turned four pieces of paper into four paper airplanes.

Gilbert turned to him and winked.

“Watch this Birdie,” He said, and Matthew blushed.

Gilbert tossed one of the airplanes in Elizaveta’s direction, and quickly he tossed the other to Francis. Amazingly, Francis’s landed to the desk next to him, and Elizaveta’s was only next to her chair. They both picked up the airplanes carefully and sent glares in Gilbert’s direction before they unfolded them. 

“ _Butch_? Is that really the best you can do?” Elizaveta turned around in her chair

“Kesesese! I guess you’ve probably heard that before, huh?” Gilbert smirked, and Matthew’s heart raced for him.

_Who would pick a fight with Elizaveta? She’s on the Varsity soccer team, the Varsity volleyball team, and in the spring, she throws the javelin for Varsity track._

“Hey,” Elizaveta said and gripped the back of her chair. “If I lose my temper, I’ll snap you like a twig.”

“Really?” Gilbert chuckled, and blew out a plume of smoke.

“Really,” Elizaveta deadpanned and tightened her ponytail.

Francis leaned back in his chair and said, “If I may add to the discussion, I’m not sure if _twink_ is the most accurate word to describe myself.”

Gilbert opened his mouth to say something, but stopped when he heard Arthur laughing out loud behind him.

“That’s brilliant,” He said between laughs, and curled his shiny black nails near his smiling mouth.

Gilbert grinned and exclaimed, “See? Goth boy agrees with me.” He picked up one of the remaining two paper airplanes and tossed it to Arthur. “Oh, and coincidentally that’s what yours says.”

Arthur slammed the plane down on the table and rolled his eyes. “How original.”

“Why don’t you keep your stupid nicknames to yourself?” Elizaveta raised her voice and stared at Gilbert with level eyes. “Asshole.”

“Well, hey what did you do to get in here Lizzie?” Gilbert grinned and rubbed his lit cigarette against his boot. “Got caught with your steroids again?”

“Look, just because you live here, that doesn’t give you the right to be a fucking pain in the ass, so knock it off!” Elizaveta yelled and curled her fingers tighter over the back of the chair.

“Kesesese! I think that’s exactly why I can do what I want.”

“Eliza, _mon cher_ , try your best to ignore him. He just wants your attention,” Francis placated and patted her shoulder.

“Please,” Gilbert said and stood up on the table. “You couldn’t ignore me if you tried!”

He bent down to pick up the last paper airplane, and then hopped from desk to desk until he was in the front row sticking his tongue at Elizaveta and Francis.

“Wow, look at that. You should try out for long jump,” Elizaveta drawled and tried to hit him as he jumped to a desk behind her.

“Ha! I would totally make it and you know it!” Gilbert yelled and jumped to the desk in front of Matthew.

He plopped down on the desk and swung his legs underneath the table.

“This one’s for you Birdie,” Gilbert grinned and dropped the plane on Matthew’s desk.

Matthew looked up at Gilbert’s triumphant, sparkling face and tentatively grasped the plane with his slender fingers to unfold it.

For whatever reason, that simple word written on paper, by Gilbert, made Matthew blush and he looked up at Gilbert questioningly.

“Well, Mathieu…What did he call you?” Francis asked, and leaned his arm over the chair.

Matthew stared at him for a moment.

_Francis knew his name? Francis knew he existed? How is that possible?_

Then he blinked and turned the paper over nervously.

“Um, he sai –”

“Kesesese! It’s a secret!” Gilbert interrupted and pushed himself up on the desk again to give one last wink to Matthew. “Alright then, I think it’s about time we closed that door, right?”

Gilbert hopped off of the row of desks and sauntered over to the front row again.

He looked at Francis and asked, “What do you think? Should we get some privacy?”

“ _Mon Dieu_. First Arthur, now you. I feel as though I’m a huge success in detention, aren’t I?” Francis joked, but no one else laughed.

“Hear that Frog? That’s the sound of your popularity dying,” Arthur snapped, and resumed building a house of cards.

“As long as I have you, my dark little pet, I don’t need anyone else in the world,” Francis sing-songed back to him and smiled.

“Hey, Goth. Are you really as creepy as the rumors say?” Gilbert asked.

Arthur mocked Gilbert silently and replied, “I don’t know, are you as _pathetic_ as the rumors say?” He put the final card on top and leaned back carefully.

Gilbert frowned and stomped violently on the ground.

The house of cards fell and Arthur looked devastated. Francis started snickering at how absolutely _sad_ he looked.

“Gilbert!” Matthew snapped, and looked at him sternly.

“What?” Gilbert stared back at him genuinely surprised.

“You bloody imbecile! Look at what you did!” Arthur shouted and stood up from his seat.

He quickly tore through his bag and pulled out a black candle and a photograph.

“Wait – Is that…Is that a photo of me? How do you even have one?” Gilbert gawked and Arthur just kept going about his business.

He lit the candle with a match and held the photo of Gilbert over the flame. Then he started chanting.

“ _There has been unfairness done to me, I summon the elements, I invoke them, I conjure them to do my bidding_ ,” Arthur said in monotone and closed his eyes as the image burned.

“Gilbert, he’s putting a curse on you! Say sorry!” Matthew pleaded, and Gilbert turned to him blankly.

For a second Matthew thought he saw fear tense in those red eyes, but in another moment Gilbert smirked confidently and laughed.

“Kesesese! Why doesn’t he give it his best shot? The awesome me can’t be taken down by some fake black magic!”

“ _The four watchtowers shall lay their eyes and minds and there shall be fear and guilt and bad blood, there shall be submission and no pity_.”

“Gilbert,” Matthew tried again and Gilbert looked at him in confusion. “I don’t want you to get hurt. Just say you’re sorry.” Matthew glanced back at Arthur’s ritual and squeaked. He turned to Gilbert again and whispered, “Arthur’s really scary.”

“You should consider trying out for the drama club with all of your flair!” Francis exclaimed and for a moment it seemed as though Arthur’s concentration was broken and he crushed the top of Gilbert’s photograph in annoyance.

But then he continued.

“ _I point the threefold law against thee, against thee it shall be pointed threefold, a hundred fold is the cost for my anger and pain_.”

“Gilbert!” Matthew tried again, and this time he was growing desperate.

“What?” He looked back innocently, and tried to figure out why Matthew kept yelling at him.

“ _Thee shall be blinded by the fear, blinded by the pain, blinded by me, binded by me, cursed by me, so mote it be_!” Arthur threw the last piece of the photograph into the flame with a flourish and stepped back.

Then he pulled a black handkerchief from behind his back and tossed it over the black candle. Arthur picked up the corner of the fabric and lifted it up in the air to reveal an empty desk.

Francis started clapping.

“ _Incroyable_! _Exceptionnel_! On behalf of the Student Council, I gladly accept your application for school mascot!” Francis cheered, and stood up to give Arthur a standing ovation.

“Damn frog!” Arthur yelled, slightly exasperated from the long curse. “If I had another candle, you’d be next!”

“Do your curses actually work?” Matthew asked tentatively.

Arthur looked at Matthew and crossed his arms confidently.

“Of course they work. I learned from the best mage in London,” He said and fixed his hood further over his head.

“Well then, why didn’t you say so earlier? With credentials like that you could be treasurer!” Francis exclaimed and Gilbert giggled into his hand.

“And replace your Spanish moron? I think he represents your little club all too well,” Arthur sneered and slumped back into his chair.

“ _Hey! Don’t you say that about Toni!_ ” Francis and Gilbert yelled back automatically.

They stopped and looked at each other.

“Uh,” Gilbert began slightly flustered, and walked over to the open door. “How about we close this door now, huh?”

“Oh, please. Why don’t you take a seat and start working on your paper,” Elizaveta said, and leaned back in her chair. “You’re going to need all eight hours to put those sentences together.”

Gilbert grimaced and narrowed his eyes. He walked back to her desk.

“Really? Does it take a lot of brainpower to kick the ball from one end of the field to the other? Is that why you can’t take your own tests?”

“I do all of my schoolwork, thank you,” Elizaveta snapped and smoothed her hair. “Not that your opinion matters.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Gilbert asked, and Matthew heard the hurt hidden behind his cocky grin.

“It means – _you_ don’t matter. If you weren’t at school no one would notice. No one would care. You might as well not even exist.”

Matthew’s breath hitched. That’s exactly how he felt. But it made sense for him: he really was a nobody.

Gilbert though…he must have friends, right?

Matthew looked at Gilbert worriedly, and saw his smile falter.

“Well then, maybe I should join the soccer team. Or the baseball team. Or track,” He offered sarcastically, and Elizaveta snickered.

“As if they’d take you,” She said and popped the collar of her jacket.

“What about Student Council? Or the drama club?” Gilbert continued with an evil glint to his eyes.

“Yeah right. I think you’re forgetting that you need talent.”

“I’m crushed,” Gilbert rolled his eyes.

“You know Gilbert, perhaps if you stopped pretending you didn’t care about anything, you might find yourself with a few friends, or even a club,” Francis said and looked at Gilbert meaningfully. “Are you afraid they won’t take you? Is that it?”

“Ha! As if the awesome me would be afraid of losers like you,” Gilbert laughed roughly and ran his fingers through his hair. “Maybe I’ll go join the Black Magic club."

“We’re currently not accepting new members at this time,” Arthur drawled from the back of the classroom.

Everyone turned around to face him.

“Arthur, I don’t mean to pry, but is that…” Francis tried to bite back his growing smile.

“A crow. Yes it is,” Arthur answered and plucked a piece of paper from the fabric pocket on the bird’s back. He unfolded the paper and continued casually, “It’s a carrier crow.”

Francis tried to hold back his laughter, but once he heard Gilbert guffawing behind him, he couldn’t help but laugh too.

“Bloody hell, you two have perhaps the most ridiculous laughs I’ve ever heard,” Arthur commented as he was writing a note on one of his essay papers.

Elizaveta, who had stayed silent through all of this, was growing increasingly impatient, and kept throwing nervous glances in the direction of the open door.

“Will you guys please shut up? I have two very important soccer games coming up and I can’t afford miss them because of you idiots!” She yelled and sent glares in all directions.

“Yeah, and that’d suck wouldn’t it? Not getting a chance to knock down a few girls with your brute strength,” Gilbert hopped up on the railing.

“Well you wouldn’t know anything about it, asshole. You’ve never competed in your whole life,” Elizaveta stared daggers at him. Then something occurred to her and she added with a smile. “But then, I hear you brother is quite the star athlete. Isn’t he trying out for the soccer team too?”

Gilbert’s body tensed up and he glared back at her.

“So tell me, are you the only bad egg of the family, or should I be worried that your brother will try to burn the field.”

“Don’t talk about Ludwig like that!” Gilbert jumped up, and shook his fist in Elizaveta’s direction. “He’s ten times better than you.”

“You mean ten times better than _you_ ,” She corrected with a smirk. “Man, I can’t believe you guys are related.”

Matthew’s chest tightened. He knew how much Gilbert cared about his brother. Their parents were divorced now, so Gilbert lived with their father, and Ludwig lived with their mother; but Matthew remembered the times in elementary school when Gilbert would brag to everyone about his awesome little brother.

Matthew also knew what it was like to have an amazing sibling upstage you.

Gilbert looked torn between ripping Elizaveta apart (which he probably couldn’t) and running away.

He ended up laughing a forced “kesesese,” and sauntering down to the open door again.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Elizaveta yelled after him, her green eyes narrowed in concern.

“Get back to work young lady,” Gilbert ordered with a cheeky grin, and peaked into the hallway.

Everyone in the classroom held their breath as they watched Gilbert step back inside, and stand on his tip-toes to unscrew something from the hinge of the door.

“Gilbert! Stop it, you’re going to get us into trouble,” She whispered harshly and gripped her compression pants anxiously.

“We’re already in trouble,” Gilbert grunted and yanked something out of the hinge.

All of a sudden the door swung shut, and Gilbert ran through the classroom and pulled out a seat next to Matthew.

He turned to Matthew, and his eyes glinted playfully as he tried to hold back his laughter.

Matthew looked back at him and mouthed, _what are you doing?_

Gilbert just held a finger to his lips and hinted at Matthew to stay quiet.

It didn’t take much longer for Mr. Laurinaitis to come bursting through the door, possibly more flustered and fidgety than before.

“Um, I’m sorry to disturb you guys, but you can’t close this door,” He said and tried to look serious.

“We didn’t close it, it just shut on its own,” Gilbert said and folded his hands together neatly on the table.

“But that’s not possibl –”

“Arthur put a curse on it,” Francis interrupted, and Gilbert looked in his direction curiously.

“Yes, that’s right. I was aiming for a certain obnoxious German, but I missed and hit the door,” Arthur added sarcastically and fit the piece of paper into the crow’s pocket.

“Excuse me, but is that a –”

“A crow, yes it is,” Arthur interrupted and carried the crow to the window.

He held it near the widow, and in a second, the bird jumped off of his arm and flew outside.

Mr. Laurinaitis looked increasingly stressed by the whole situation and sighed.

“Look – I’ll try to explain the door to him, but you guys should really try staying quiet from now on. You know how scary Ivan can be. Especially you, Gilbert,” He warned, and frowned in Gilbert’s direction.

Then Mr. Laurinaitis turned around and wandered out of the classroom, shutting the door behind him.

Matthew looked at Gilbert.

His hands were still clasped together, but now his nails were digging into his skin.

 

* * *

 

After Mr. Laurinaitis left, everyone was pretty still. 

Gilbert moved back to his old seat and left Matthew alone, but no one else moved.

Elizaveta unpacked her weights and curled those as she gossiped with Francis about the new soccer players. They talked about which ones were cute, and who they’d pair up with whom.

Antonio, or Toni as most people called him, was Francis’s best friend and the captain of the boys’ Varsity soccer team. Francis was telling Elizaveta that Toni’s been eyeing after the darker, feistier of the Italian twins, and when he heard that the boy – Lovino – was trying out, he sent messages to everyone in school about how excited he was. It made Elizaveta giggle because Antonio used a lot of emoticons.

Francis carried on their gossip and occasionally threw glances in Arthur’s direction.

Arthur was a new transfer student this year, but Francis had four out of his six classes with him, so he felt like he knew him quite well already. Somehow he found the Goth boy very intriguing. From day one Arthur made it apparent that he didn’t “give a bloody damn” what other people thought of him, and literally did whatever he wanted, dressed however he wanted, and said whatever he wanted.

It made Francis’s blood boil at first, because Arthur would say the snarkiest, cruelest things at times, but he was also secretly very interested.

Francis was the sort of person who cared about what everyone thought of him. He dressed as well as he could because he wanted to impress people, he did what he thought was polite or right or, in some cases, funny; and he was always very careful and very rehearsed with what he said.

Arthur, on the other hand, didn’t know what he thought about Francis.

While Francis was throwing him strange looks, Arthur was flipping him off and trying to concentrate on his Tarot predictions.

He was growing increasingly distressed by his cards, and kept trying to redo the prediction, but each time it ended up the same way.

That damn frog was going to be in his future.

Arthur didn’t know what that meant exactly, he supposed it could mean a variety of things; but it worried him that love also seemed to appear in his near future.

After about the tenth failed attempt at predicting his future correctly, Arthur gave up and pulled out his book of spells to try and ward off evil French spirits.

Meanwhile, Matthew was quietly sitting at his desk, doodling birds and maple leaves on his extra sheet of paper. He had briefly forgotten his worries for Gilbert and his stress for school, and instead daydreamed about starting a bird-watching club and visiting Canada again.

Gilbert had lit another cigarette, and was watching Matthew draw rather intently.

Even after they stopped talking to each other in elementary school, Gilbert never stopped looking after Matthew.

Matthew was always so soft and sweet; Gilbert felt rather protective of him. He was like something precious Gilbert thought he had to keep away from everyone else. But at the same time, Gilbert was always sort of hesitant to be around Matthew because he knew that his presence was no good for anyone: he only brought trouble.

This was the first time they’ve talked to each other since they were friends in third grade.

Gilbert didn’t understand why Matthew was here. He was still trying to figure that out. It didn’t make any sense for Mattie – his _Birdie_ – to be stuck in detention with him. Matthew should be busy writing award-winning essays and winning medals in Academic Decathlon.

But Gilbert didn’t complain.

He liked being around Matthew. It made him feel…good somehow. Like he could maybe be as good of a person as Matthew was.

 

* * *

 

10:00 rolled around and Mr. Laurinaitis was sent to check on them again. 

Everyone had fallen asleep in some strange position, and the teacher breathed a sigh of relief that it wasn’t Ivan who found him. This is why he insisted on helping with detention.

“Um,” He broke the silence and watched for any signs of movement. “Does anyone need to use the restroom?”

Everyone raised their hands, except Matthew and Gilbert, and Mr. Laurinaitis gestured for them to follow him.

Arthur was the last one to shuffle down the aisle, and when the door swung shut the fourth time, Matthew and Gilbert were alone in the classroom.

Gilbert rubbed his cigarette against his boot and tossed the remainder inside the desk.

Matthew stopped doodling and glanced at Gilbert.

He didn’t know whether he should say something and break the silence, or…

“So Mattie,” Gilbert said as he shifted in his seat. “Does Alfred still want to go pro?”

Matthew blinked at him as he tried to figure out the question.

“Oh,” He breathed and looked down in disappointment. “Yes, I think so. He’s already being scouted for big baseball colleges.”

Gilbert turned at the sound of Matthew’s voice.

Did he say the wrong thing? Gilbert didn’t know what to say, they haven’t talked in so long.

“Um,” Matthew piped up, and his cheeks dusted pink. “Did you ever get that tattoo you talked about?”

Gilbert stared at him blankly and he felt his own face turn red.

_Matthew remembered that?_

He quickly recovered when Matthew looked in his direction curiously.

“Hell yeah I did! It was the first tattoo I got!” Gilbert announced with a grin, and started taking off his layers. “Do you want to see it?”

“Sure,” Matthew breathed, and he watched Gilbert remove all of his tattered layers.

After his jacket was thrown aside, and then his plaid button-down, he was only wearing his black tank top, and for the first time Matthew saw Gilbert’s infamous tattoo sleeves. No one else at school had them.

Gilbert jumped up from his chair excitedly and walked to the side of Matthew’s desk.

He dropped his left elbow onto the desk, and flexed his bicep. The black, Prussian eagle was the centerpiece among the elaborate designs and details of his sleeve.

“Oh, wow,” Matthew said and Gilbert beamed. Then he looked up and asked, “Did it hurt?”

Gilbert paused for a moment.

Actually, it did hurt. Every tattoo hurt more than the last, and by the time he was getting his last tattoos, Ludwig had to go with him to the tattoo parlor so someone could comfort him when cried.

But he couldn’t tell Mattie that.

“Uh, of course not! As if some stupid tattoo could hurt the awesome me! Kesesese!” Gilbert laughed nervously, and scratched the back of his neck with his free hand.

Matthew was still looking at his arm, and tracing all of the artistic designs very intently.

“What are all of these German words?” He asked and pointed to a few near Gilbert’s elbow.

“Oh, they’re just words I like,” Gilbert grinned and pointed to a word on his forearm. “ _Ehrfürchtige_ means awesome.”

“That makes sense,” Matthew smiled to himself and looked at a word closer to Gilbert’s wrist. “What is this one?”

Gilbert glanced down at the word and his ears turned red.

 _Vögelchen_ means Birdie…

“Um, yeah that’s –”

Gilbert stopped when he heard the door swing open.

“Huh, Elizaveta? Didn’t think a girl would be the first one back,” Gilbert commented and thanked _Gott_ that he didn’t have to explain the tattoo to Matthew.

Elizaveta kept her hands in the pockets of her Varsity jacket and sat on top of her desk.

“I heard a lot of yelling from the boys’ bathroom, so I think they might be a while,” She said and rolled her eyes.

“Why would there be yelling?” Matthew asked and looked at Gilbert.

Gilbert just shrugged his muscular shoulders and fixed his silver hair.

Then the doors burst open again and Arthur ran in with his hood drawn even further over his head.

“Arthur, what happened?” Matthew asked.

Arthur just ignored him however, and stalked to his dark desk in the back of the classroom.

The doors flew open again, but this time it was Francis’s laughing, smiling figure that came skipping through, and he leaned on Elizaveta’s desk to catch his breath.

“What the hell happened in there?” She asked and tried to peer at Francis’s face.

Francis stifled another giggle and said, “You won’t believe it, but Arthur’s a…a…”

“A what? Fucking spit it out!” She slapped Francis’s shoulder, but he kept laughing.

“He’s a blonde!” Francis grinned, and continued laughing over the desk.

“He’s a blonde? Well, I guess that’s a bit of a surprise. I figured you would’ve dyed your hair black too,” She said and looked at Arthur.

“Yes, well athletes aren’t known for their imaginations, are they?” Arthur replied and started drawing on his hand with a black Sharpie.

Elizaveta stuck her tongue out and turned to Francis.

“That still doesn’t explain why you’re laughing like a maniac! What the hell is so funny about it?”

“It’s not funny! It’s just that,” Francis paused to breathe. “He’s actually very cute!”

Arthur’s head shot up in the back, and slowly his cheeks burned red.

“I am not fucking cute, you wanker! Quit making fun of me!” Arthur yelled and adjusted his hood again.

“If you think being called cute is a bad thing, you really are an odd one Arthur,” Francis winked. “Why didn’t you dye your hair if dislike it so much?”

“Because I,” Arthur stopped and glared at Francis. “It’s none of your business. Just sod off!”

“You crush me, _mon cher_ ,” Francis sighed dramatically and held his hand to his heart.

Gilbert seemed like he was bored with the conversation so he jumped back up on his desk and started walking around, desk to desk. He stopped at a bookshelf and took out a random book.

“Francis, are you going to Feliks’s party tonight? I hear it’s going to be, and I quote, ‘like totally rad and stuff.’” Hungary took off her jacket and revealed a tight yellow Spandex top.

Francis’s face saddened slightly, but he still smiled.

“Hm, it depends on whether I’m grounded or not,” He said and looked at the ground. “ _Maman_ said I am, but _papa_ told me to ignore her and go anyway.”

“So are you going to go?” Elizaveta asked and stretched her toned arms.

“No, probably not,” Francis chuckled lightly and less happily. “If I do what _papa_ says _maman_ will start a big fight and then I’m caught in the middle of it. It’s only a matter of time before they get divorced really.”

Gilbert ripped a page out of a book and asked, “Who’d you live with?”

Francis flicked his eyes to him briefly and sighed.

“I don’t think I want to live with either of them. I’d rather just live on my own with Toni or something,” He said dreamily and tucked a few strands of blond hair behind his ear. “I don’t think they care about me at all. They’re just using me to get back at each other.”

“Boohoo,” Arthur echoed from his seat, and Francis turned to him angrily.

“What?” He asked and narrowed his dark, blue eyes.

Arthur shrugged his shoulders and smirked at him mischievously.

“What about you Lizardbreath, do you like your parents?” Gilbert asked, and Matthew cringed when he heard a few more pages being ripped.

“If I say yes you’re going to call me delusional, aren’t you?” Elizaveta crossed her arms, and deliberately ignored the nickname.

“No, I’d just call you a liar,” Gilbert replied nonchalantly, and several other pages were ripped from the seams.

Elizaveta jumped up from her desk and stalked over to where Gilbert was standing. She pushed him back with her hand.

“If we weren’t in school right now, I would take you down in ten seconds flat,” She threatened, and for a moment Gilbert felt very afraid.

Then his eyes flicked to Matthew subconsciously, and his chest puffed up in fake confidence.

“Kesesese! You and your little army of mini tomboys?”

Elizaveta narrowed her eyes and punched Gilbert in the arm.

“ _Verdammt_! You bitch, I wasn’t ready!” He yelled and held his bicep protectively.

“It’ll just be me asshole,” She warned and walked back towards her desk. “If you want to go sometime outside of school, it’ll just be me and you.”

“Whatever,” Gilbert muttered and jumped back on the desk. 

Matthew was very nervous, and noticed every person in the classroom was on edge now except for him.

He wanted to talk to Gilbert, or at least ask if he was okay, but Gilbert kept hopping on the desks, stopping briefly at his own to put his other layers back on, and then continued stomping around.

Francis stopped glancing back in Arthur’s direction, and was now solely concerned with making small talk with Elizaveta.

Arthur noticed this and couldn’t decide whether he liked it or not. He decided to do another Tarot card prediction and see if anything in his future had changed.

Nothing did.

So Matthew went back to doodling birds in his AP French textbook.

He noticed he kept drawing black eagles though.

 

* * *

 

At 11:30, the assistant principle ordered Mr. Laurinaitis to give the students their lunch break. 

He swung open the door and found all of them not sleeping, but all looking rather bored and melancholy.

“So, um, you guys can have your half hour lunch break in here,” Mr. Laurinaitis said and tried to brighten up the mood with a smile.

“Can’t we go outside or something?” Elizaveta asked, and tried her best to make her face as pitiful as possible.

“No, I’m sorry. Mr. Braginsky was very clear that you should all eat here for lunch,” He replied apologetically.

“I think this place has a wonderful atmosphere. We’ll be just fine here,” Francis smiled brightly, and Mr. Laurinaitis breathed a bit easier.

“O-okay then. If you need anything else, I’ll be in the room across the hall,” He opened the door and slipped out.

Elizaveta turned to Francis and asked, “What was that all about?”

Francis just kept grinning and skipped to the other side of the classroom, where the windows were. He opened the one Arthur released his crow through and peaked out.

“What are you doing, frog?” Arthur asked as he pulled out a black lunch bag.

“I’m looking for someone,” Francis said happily.

“Who?” Gilbert asked, and tried to disguise his curiosity.

“Oh, just my bes – Toni! Over here!” Francis called and waved his hand out the window.

“Toni’s coming?” Gilbert stood up from his seat and smiled slightly.

“Please asshole, like he’d hang out with you,” Elizaveta sneered as she passed Gilbert’s desk to go to the window.

Matthew looked at Gilbert sympathetically as he frowned and slumped into his chair.

After a few minutes of scrambling, Matthew saw Antonio’s curly brown hair peak over the windowsill, and soon enough Elizaveta and Francis were hauling his tall body through the window, until he hit the floor.

Antonio’s bright green eyes opened and he laughed.

“ _Hola amigos_! How’s detention going?”

“So much better now that you’re here _mon ami_!” Francis shouted and picked Toni up for a quick hug.

“Ugh, please continue your bromance somewhere else,” Arthur complained and took a sip from his thermos.

“You’re just jealous that I get to hug a dark, attractive Spaniard,” Francis snickered playfully, and Arthur was secretly relieved to hear happiness back in his voice.

“Haha, I’m not that attractive,” Antonio protested and fidgeted in his soccer uniform.

“Did you come straight from practice or something?” Elizaveta asked as she glanced at his cleats.

“Oh, well, _si_ – kind of,” Antonio said and pulled up one of his shin guards. “I decided to run an extra practice for the Varsity team since we’re starting tryouts on Monday and I can’t train with them.”

Francis grabbed the bag from Antonio hand.

“And you brought my lunch! Oh, _merci mon ami_! _Merci_!” He looked through the bag excitedly.

“What are the snails _du jour_?” Arthur asked sarcastically and took a bite of his scone.

“If by snails you mean gourmet paella made by Toni’s wonderful mother, then it’s beef,” Francis replied and pulled out a bottle of wine. “And then we also have Cabernet Sauvignon, of course.”

“Of course,” Arthur muttered.

“Oh hey Gil, how are you doing?” Antonio asked, and everyone looked at Gilbert.

“You two _know_ each other?” Francis raised his eyebrow, and he stared at Gilbert’s hunched figure.

“You two _like_ each other?” Elizaveta crossed her arms dubiously and flipped her ponytail.

“Well yeah, of course! Gilbert tutors me in history,” Antonio smiled as if it were obvious, and Francis and Elizaveta took double-takes. “He also convinced Lovino to try out for the soccer team!”

“You did?” Francis asked and looked at Gilbert with a different, more open expression.

“It was easy,” Gilbert said with a cocky smile. “The punk’s just like I was. All I had to do was push a few buttons and he was running out of woodshop to tell the coach.”

“Thanks anyway though. I still haven’t figured out a way to pay you back for the tutoring thing.”

Gilbert stared at him blankly, and something softer and gentler took over his face. Matthew thought he looked touched.

Of course, in another moment, Gilbert was laughing that strange laugh of his and saying, “Eh, it was whatever. I’m too awesome to need your favors.”

Antonio didn’t seem convinced, but he smiled easily – he was always smiling actually – and walked to the front of the room with Francis and Elizaveta.

Antonio unpacked his mother’s homemade lunch, and Gilbert watched in fascination and envy at how much there was. It wasn’t just paella, there were chips, salsa, tortillas, and churros. It made Gilbert’s mouth water just at the sight of it.

Elizaveta had her own very special lunch of three bagels and peanut butter, two protein bars, a protein shake, an apple, and a bag of chips. Gilbert would’ve settled for some of her lunch, but from the way Elizaveta was scarfing down her bagels, it didn’t seem like there was even a chance.

Gilbert didn’t bother looking back at Arthur’s lunch. It seemed like Goth boy only packed a thermos of tea, and scones. Those were perhaps two of the foods Gilbert hated most. _Why tea_?

“Gilbert.”

He turned quickly at the sound of his name and looked at Matthew.

Matthew was smiling shyly at him and said, “If you’re hungry, you can have some of my lunch.”

“Oh, I’m not hungry,” Gilbert clarified with a laugh, and leaned forward in his chair to inspect Matthew’s desk. “But, uh, what are you eating?”

Matthew moved his hands away from his desk so Gilbert could see.

“It’s blueberry pancakes and maple syrup,” He said, and bit his lip in amusement when Gilbert scooted his chair closer.

“You still eat pancakes for lunch?” Gilbert’s eyes twinkled.

Matthew blushed and said, “Yeah…But I make them myself now.”

“Oh, can I try some?” Gilbert asked and tried to ignore just how hungry his stomach was. He wasn’t gong to inhale Matthew’s entire meal. Matthew was thin enough as it was. It’s sort of strange he’s so skinny when he basically drinks maple syrup.

“Sure,” Matthew smiled, and Gilbert’s heart skipped a beat.

 _He’s so cute_ , he thought.

Gilbert tried to dig up his usual obnoxiousness however, and grabbed the fork from Matthew’s hand.

“Well, let’s see if you’re as good of a cook as you say,” Gilbert grinned and stuffed a syrup drizzled piece of pancake into his mouth. He chewed and then he sighed. “It’s so good.”

“Really?” Matthew lit up and watched Gilbert’s content face eagerly.

Gilbert nodded his head, still in a food-heaven-daze, and swallowed the pancake.

“Would you like anymore?” Matthew asked, and pushed his Tupperware closer to him.

Gilbert looked at the pancakes hungrily and muttered, “Well, I guess I coul –”

“Hey Gilweed,” Elizaveta called, a half eaten protein bar tight in her hand. “Leave the nerd alone. He’s trying to eat in peace.”

“I wasn’t bothering him!” Gilbert yelled, and stood up from his chair.

“ _Amigo_ , why don’t you have some of our lunch. My _mamá_ made plenty,” Antonio offered and gestured for Gilbert to join them.

Francis seemed suspicious, but didn’t object when Gilbert started wandering over and stood awkwardly on the other side of their desks.

“Your mom made all of this,” Gilbert said, and marveled at how the food looked even more amazing up close.

“ _Si_ ,” Antonio replied a bit embarrassed. “Oh, but my papá made the churros.”

“Really?” Gilbert wondered, and all of a sudden a familiar pang hit his heart. “I bet your home life is pretty good, huh?" 

Antonio laughed easily and said, “ _Si_ , well my parents are very sweet. I don’t think I could ever complain about them.”

Gilbert’s chest tightened and his heart ached with envy.

In a split second haze of fiery emotion, Gilbert took a few steps back and channeled his tougher, stupider self.

“Let me take a moment to reenact the daily life of the Carriedo household,” He began and Antonio kept smiling.

“Hey son!”

“How’s it going dad?”

“How would you like to go to the beach this afternoon? Maybe catch some waves?”

“Wow dad, that sounds _maravilloso_! But I have a soccer game to play.”

“That’s okay son, we can always go this weekend! Maybe you can take your team with you and we can all get tans!”

“Okay, great! I can’t wait!”

Antonio was still grinning; he found the whole thing rather funny, but Francis and Elizaveta were tense with anger.

“Oh darling, isn’t our son amazing?”

“He is, isn’t he?”

“Awwww,” Gilbert drawled and fake-smiled in everybody’s direction.

“Shut up asshole, that wasn’t funny,” Elizaveta deadpanned and stared Gilbert right in the eyes. “What about your family?”

Gilbert’s was smiling, but Matthew could tell he was burning with fury and resentment. He’d seen him like this before.

“My family?” Gilbert asked and backed up a few steps to prepare himself. “That’s easy! Are we doing this before the divorce, or after?”

Elizaveta didn’t say anything, and Francis suddenly had a bad feeling.

“Let’s do after. That’s more fun,” Gilbert grinned, and Matthew was starting to get worried about that fake smile.

Gilbert took a moment to collect himself and frowned.

“Stupid, worthless, no-good-God-damn-free-loading-son-of-a-bitch. Retarded, pig-mouthed, asshole jerk.”

Everyone but Elizaveta paled, and Matthew couldn’t find his voice to stop him anywhere.

“What about you dad?”

“Fuck you.”

“No, dad. What about you?”

“Fuck you!”

“No, dad! What about you?!”

“Fuck you!” Gilbert yelled in the tone of his dad’s voice and tossed his head back as if he’d been struck.

Antonio stared at him worriedly and asked, “Is that for real?”

Gilbert stared down at him, suddenly furious at the difference between them. Antonio had everything he wanted.

“You want to come over sometime?” Gilbert suggested and continued flashing his red eyes.

“Oh, please,” Elizaveta said, and crossed her legs. “I don’t buy a word of it. It’s all part of your image.”

“You don’t believe me?” Gilbert asked, and narrowed his eyes at her.

“No.”

“No?”

“Did I stutter?” She furrowed her eyebrows, and tried to control the emotions bubbling.

Gilbert took a few steps closer and leaned far over her table. He pulled all of the layers covering his right arm – the one Matthew didn’t see. Elizaveta looked down and her breath hitched.

“You see that?” Gilbert pointed to a round burn, marring one of the lines of tattoos. “That looks kind of like a the size of a cigar, doesn’t it?”

Elizaveta was silent and turned away ashamed.

Gilbert didn’t relent however, and added, “This is what you get at my house when you forget to bring dad the six pack he asked for.”

Elizaveta kept her mouth shut, but Antonio and Francis seemed eager to sneak a glance.

Once they caught sight of it however, Gilbert was quick to retrieve his arm and start walking backwards towards the back of the classroom.

He felt so angry, so hurt, and so out of control, he couldn’t stop himself. No one understood. He wanted to be friends with Antonio, but it was impossible.

“You see,” Gilbert began and he tried to ignore the concerned looks Antonio and Francis gave him. “I don’t think I need to hang out with you fucking dildos any longer.”

He shouted in frustration and slid a pile of books off of a table. Then he climbed up the staircase and sat in solitude near the iron bars: far away from Matthew and Antonio and all of the other annoying, happy idiots.

Arthur and Matthew turned their disapproving stares to the front of the classroom, but were quiet.

Francis stabbed some vegetables with his fork and sighed. Antonio looked at Elizaveta.

“You shouldn’t have said that,” He said, and for once there was a serious, meaningful expression instead of a smile.

“Well, how was I supposed to know?” She replied harshly and tightened her ponytail in frustration. “I mean he lies about everything anyway.”

Antonio turned away from her and exchanged glances with Francis. Antonio knew how kind Gilbert really was, he’d seen it so many times already. And although Antonio was a bit slow to some things, he could also tell Gilbert was afraid, and angry, and more likely to make fun of someone than say hi to them.

 _Gilbert just needed a friend_ , he thought.

 

* * *

 

12:30 rolled around and Gilbert still hadn’t come down from his perch. 

Antonio needed to head back to practice, and it didn’t seem like Gilbert was coming down anytime soon to say goodbye.

“Try and be nice to him, okay?” Antonio whispered to Francis as he lifted one leg through the window. “I think he could be one of us.”

Francis rolled his eyes at Antonio’s naïve and happy smile; but deep down, he’d been thinking the same thing.

Antonio gave another wave to everyone in the classroom, and then disappeared out the window, and his fast footsteps echoed in the grass.

Francis glanced up at Gilbert and sighed. Maybe when Gilbert decided to come down he could talk to him.

Elizaveta was still sulking at her desk, so Francis decided to join her and gave a friendly pat to her shoulder.

Arthur was tired of all the drama and pulled out another phone. It looked like he was texting.

Quiet Matthew still had half of his pancakes, and was staring at them solemnly.

He’d been debating for a while, but after Antonio left he decided to just go ahead and do it.

Matthew scooted his chair out as silently as possible, and picked up his pancakes. He started walking towards the stairs and noticed every single person was staring silently at him. It made his face burn in embarrassment, but he was still determined, and he climbed the staircase until he reached Gilbert’s crouched figure.

“Gil?” Matthew said calmly, and Gilbert’s body jumped in surprise.

Red eyes flashed in Matthew’s direction. Matthew stepped closer so he could sit next to him.

“Um, are you still hungry?” Matthew asked and offered the plate and fork.

Gilbert looked at Matthew and then the plate, and then at Matthew again. His porcelain white skin flushed a light pink, and black fingerless gloves gently took the plate from Matthew’s hands.

“Thanks,” He muttered, and Matthew smiled.

Gilbert ate rapidly: it seemed like he suddenly remembered how hungry he was.

It made Matthew happy to see Gilbert eat. That aura of anger and untouchability gradually faded away, and Matthew could see the old Gilbert…his Gilbert…surface again.

“Gilbert?” Matthew piped up, and Gilbert glanced at him as he chewed his last bite. “Is there anything fun you want to do?”

Gilbert blinked at him once.

Then he grinned devilishly.

 

* * *

 

Gilbert opened the door and looked right and left. 

“Alright, follow me,” He ordered and started walking swiftly down the hall.

Everyone slowly appeared from the classroom and walked behind Gilbert. Matthew was the first to catch up to him and hovered near his side.

“Where are we going?” Matthew asked, and kept his pace quick.

Gilbert turned around and winked, “You’ll see.”

 

* * *

 

“This is your locker?” Arthur asked, and frowned in disapproval. 

“Too blue for you?” Gilbert replied and worked at opening the door.

It was unlocked, but as soon as the door opened a knife dropped from the top.

Gilbert turned to him and smiled.

“Well, perhaps it isn’t so bad,” Arthur admitted and smirked despite himself.

Francis was loitering in the middle of their crowd, and as Gilbert was fishing something from a crumpled paper bag, he snuck over to Arthur’s side.

As Arthur as busy inspecting his newly black nails, Francis yanked the black hood down and smiled at the messy locks of happy, blonde hair.

Arthur’s hands flew to his head and he stared at Francis wide-eyed and furious.

“You wanker! What the bloody hell was that for?” Arthur shouted and quickly pulled his hood back up.

But Francis was already laughing.

“Honhonhon, I’m sorry _mon cher_ ,” He snickered and resisted the temptation to poke Arthur’s red cheeks. “I couldn’t help it!”

“Oh, fuck,” Elizaveta muttered, and Arthur and Francis looked back at Gilbert.

“Is that…?” Francis asked, slightly excited.

“Gilbert!” Matthew said disapprovingly, but it only made Gilbert laugh. “Why do you have marijuana in your locker? You could get in trouble!”

Gilbert’s eyes sparkled and he leaned close to Matthew and whispered, “I like trouble.”

Matthew pushed him away quickly, because his face was already burning redder by the second and Gilbert laughed again.

“Okay then,” Gilbert announced and started walking down the hall. “Let’s go back home."

No one else moved for a second, and Matthew stared at Francis helplessly.

“Francis, I –”

Francis cut him off when he wrapped his arm around Matthew’s thin shoulders.

“Mathieu,” He said. “I think it’s time we broaden your horizons.”

Francis looked over his shoulder and saw Elizaveta and Arthur still standing near the locker.

“Are you two coming?” He asked.

Arthur was already planning on going, but he glanced at Elizaveta and saw her frown. He had to do everything.

“Come on tough guy, you’ll be alright,” He sighed and pulled Elizaveta along by her hand.

 

* * *

 

“Are we going the right way?” Matthew asked. 

“Yeah sure,” Gilbert replied and kept walking confidently.

He turned the corner and immediately stepped back into Matthew’s arms.

“W-what is it?” Matthew whispered, and Gilbert just shushed him as he stumbled to his feet again.

“This way guys!” Gilbert announced in a hushed tone, and everyone immediately understood what happened.

“Wait – was it Braginsky? You saw him?” Elizaveta asked, her voice growing more frantic. When Gilbert didn’t care to respond she groaned. “Shit, shit, shit, shit. We’re never going to get back, are we?”

Gilbert spun around and stared her right in the eye.

“Never say never,” He replied, and for once his idiocy proved comforting.

Elizaveta wasn’t as afraid.

At least she knew there was always the option of pushing Gilbert in the hallway and making a run for it themselves.

 

* * *

 

The five of them wandered the halls for minutes. Each time they passed Braginsky, Gilbert ran a little bit quicker, and Matthew could feel anxious nerves bouncing off of the white walls. 

During one of their running escapades Arthur broke the silence and said, “You know, we wouldn’t be in this mess if you didn’t knock down my house of cards.”

“What?” Gilbert asked, barely aware of the conversation.

“The curse. That’s why you’re in this mess,” Arthur clarified, huffing slightly from exasperation and exhaustion. “Of course, I didn’t expect you would’ve managed to suck all of us into your demise."

“Arthur, are you trying to tell us that your curses actually work?” Francis asked, and this time he was slightly worried.

“Of course they do,” Arthur stared at him. “I learned from –”

“ _The best mage in London_ ,” Francis finished in clipped annoyance. “I know.”

Arthur thought about saying something in return, but suddenly Gilbert spoke up.

“I’m cursed?” He said vacantly as he continued jogging down the hallway.

“Yes, you’re cursed! Are you deaf or something?”

“I’m cursed,” Gilbert repeated and he stopped in his tracks.

“What now?” Elizaveta whined and she wiped some of the stray, sweaty strands of hair back against her head.

Gilbert faced them and grinned. He tossed the bag of weed to Arthur, and started stepping away.

“You guys go back, I’ll take it from here,” He ordered and sprinted in the other direction.

“Gilbert!” Matthew called after him, but Gilbert didn’t turn around.

He kept running out of view and then the four of them heard singing.

 

* * *

 

Matthew stared at the clock. 

1:30

_Where was he?_

Minutes passed, and Matthew flicked his pencil to the desk nervously. No one was talking, and it made the noise he was making all the more nervous.

At 1:40 the door swung open, and everyone stared in relief when Gilbert walked through, his hands deep in his pockets, and his silver hair hanging over his eyes.

Then everyone’s breath stopped when they noticed Mr. Braginsky was walking behind him, that icy smile still there on his lips.

“Hello everyone. Sorry to disturb you, but I found your comrade making noise in the gymnasium,” He said simply and sent an evil stare at Gilbert. “I’m sorry to inform you, but you will all be without his company for the remainder of the day.”

Gilbert stopped by his desk and grabbed his things.

“Where are you going?” Matthew whispered, and Gilbert glanced solemnly in his direction.

Then he smiled.

“I’ll see you soon, ‘kay Birdie?” Gilbert turned around and walked towards the front of the room.

“This way Mr. Bielschmidt,” said the assistant principal and he tried to grab Gilbert’s arm.

“Don’t touch me!” Gilbert shouted and yanked his arm from Mr. Braginsky’s cold grip.

He stormed through the door, and the vice principal calmly followed.

When they were gone Matthew stared at the door fearfully.

_What was he going to do to Gilbert?_

 

* * *

 

The two of them walked for some time, but they didn’t say anything. Gilbert knew the drill: he was going to be locked in the basement closet…again. 

When they arrived, Gilbert opened the door and quickly curled up in his spot near the corner.

Mr. Braginsky shut the door and smiled.

Like Antonio, Mr. Braginsky was always smiling. But unlike Antonio’s smile, Gilbert hated Mr. Braginsky’s smile like nothing else. It freaked him out. It was a type of cruelty he didn’t understand – it was so different from his father’s.

At least Gilbert could predict what his dad would do.

With Ivan…

“Gilbert,” His light, airy voice said and Gilbert looked up. Mr. Braginsky’s smile dropped and those purple eyes darkened. “That’s the last time. The last time you cause a scene in my school. Do you understand?”

Gilbert didn’t say anything.

“I’ve worked hard; I’m well respected. I have a place in this town. I’m not going to let a little punk like you go ahead and ruin it.”

Gilbert didn’t say anything.

“But someday,” Mr. Braginsky smiled again. “Someday when you’ve left and forgotten all about this place, and it’s forgotten all about you, and you’re lost in your own pathetic, little life…I’m going to be there.”

Gilbert looked up wide-eyed and wrapped his arms around his knee tighter.

Mr. Braginsky was pleased at the reaction and he continued.

“That’s right Gilbert,” He said and he leaned in closer. “And you know what’ll happen next?” He paused. “I’m going to break you.”

Gilbert smelled Vodka in his icy breath and shivered. His old man smelled like beer and potatoes – this was more intimidating.

Ivan grasped Gilbert’s chin in his large, cold hands and smiled.

“I’ll break you so terribly, you won’t be able to _walk_ anymore, you won’t be able to _smoke_ anymore, you won’t be able to _smile_ anymore.”

Mr. Braginsky let go of his face and backed away.

“Are you threatening me?” Gilbert asked through clenched teeth, and tried to keep his eyes steady.

“Maybe I am,” Ivan replied and shrugged his shoulder. “What are you going to do about it?”

Gilbert stared at him. His eyes stung.

“Do you think anyone’s going to believe you over me?” Ivan laughed shortly. “I’m a man of respect. They fear me around here, they listen to me.”

Gilbert gulped.

“You’re just a liar. A loser everyone tries to ignore.”

Gilbert looked down and pressed his lips together.

He can’t cry. He can’t cry in front of him. He won’t.

“Do you want to fight now?” Ivan asked, and Gilbert’s head shot up scared.

Mr. Braginsky knelt before him and his smile seemed more devious.

“I’ll let you take the first punch. Come on,” He said and his eyelids dropped halfway. “Let’s see how tough you are.”

Gilbert just stared at him. He watched Ivan carefully, and held his knee to his chest securely.

Ivan chuckled and stood back up.

“That’s what I thought,” He continued smiling, and gripped the doorknob. He sneered at Gilbert and added, “You’re just a coward.”

Mr. Braginsky left the closet, and Gilbert heard it lock.

 Just like the usual.

 

* * *

 

Matthew was panicking. 

This was just like third grade. Matthew would be teased by some random boy, and he’d cry and try to run away, but he couldn’t.

Then Gilbert would appear and suddenly Matthew was pushed to the side, and Gilbert had tackled the bully to the ground.

It was always like that.

Gilbert didn’t think when Matthew as in trouble, he just jumped into the situation and did whatever he could.

He saved Matthew’s skin several times, and each time he would wander back to Matthew’s side with fresh scrapes and darkening bruises, but he was always laughing. Matthew loved Gilbert’s laugh.

Matthew couldn’t do anything without overthinking it. He couldn’t look at a bully without considering all of the dozen ways he could be hurt and get into trouble. Gilbert didn’t care. If he saw someone he cared in trouble, he would just dive in: simple as that.

That was when they were friends though. When Gilbert still sat with Matthew during lunch, and they exchanged drawings during class. Gilbert hasn’t done something like that since the end of the third grade, when his parents got divorced.

Until now.

Matthew held his head in his hands and dug his fingers into his scalp.

He didn’t want Gilbert to get hurt again. Gilbert was too nice. Matthew cared about him too much.

Suddenly a noise broke the silence, and everyone looked around.

“Was that a crash?” Elizaveta asked and dropped her sneakers from the top of her desk.

Everyone waited, and eventually the door swung open.

Gilbert stumbled through, dusting debris off of his jacket and fixing his hair.

“Ah, well look who it is!” Elizaveta said and a smile crept over her lips.

“The triumphant hero emerges from the ashes,” Francis joked along, and laughed lightly.

Gilbert puffed his chest and marched down the aisle.

“Kesesese! Of course! Did you guys miss m –”

Matthew tackled him with a hug, and Gilbert looked down in amazement.

_Matthew was hugging him?_

He felt Matthew’s slender arms around his back, and the comforting warmth of his chest, and he debated returning the hug or not. He definitely wanted to.

Gilbert looked around and saw every single person was staring at them, and he became much too self-conscious to keep the hug.

He pushed Matthew away gently and laughed.

“S-so Arthur, you have what I gave you?” Gilbert stuttered and tentatively walked around Matthew to the back of the classroom.

Arthur tossed the bag to Gilbert wordlessly and crossed his arms.

“Thank you,” Gilbert grinned and continued wandering further back in the classroom.

Matthew stood there with his face red in embarrassment. He didn’t expect Gilbert to push him away.

Someone patted his shoulder and Matthew looked to the side.

“Ah, don’t worry _mon cher_. Love is a fickle thing. I’m not sure if Gilbert is quite ready for it,” Francis said and pushed Matthew’s back in the direction of Gilbert.

Arthur got up reluctantly and stuffed his hands in his hoodie’s pockets.

“Come on tomboy, you made it this far,” Arthur called without glancing back and Elizaveta flinched.

“God fucking damn it,” She muttered and stomped after them.

 

* * *

 

“Honhonhon,” Francis laughed out a plume of smoke and fell onto Gilbert’s shoulder. “Do you know how popular I am?" 

Gilbert shook his head.

“I…am _so_ popular. Everybody loves me,” He said and giggled into Gilbert’s jacket.

“Kesesesese! You are, you really are,” He agreed and rested his head on top of Francis’s.

They kept laughing and Francis moved his head off of Gilbert’s shoulders.

Francis inhaled his joint, and Gilbert looked to the side.

“Birdie, how are you doing?” He asked between giggles and tried to concentrate on Matthew’s twitching figure.

After a minute Gilbert understood Matthew was laughing, and he couldn’t help but grin happily at him.

“You okay over there?” Gilbert leaned over his knees and looked at him.

Matthew looked at him and his indigo eyes sparkled.

“I’m…amazing,” Matthew mumbled and his long blonde hair fell carelessly in his face.

“Where’s Eliza?” Francis asked and looked around lazily.

“She’s upstairs dancing,” Arthur replied matter of fact, and continued texting in a chair next to Matthew.

He decided not to smoke and record their amusing antics.

 

* * *

 

“Mattie!” Elizaveta squeaked and hugged Matthew tight in her muscular arms. 

“What?” He asked, and enjoyed the comforting feeling.

“Do you have a middle name?” She asked and giggled into Matthew’s hair.

“Yeah, it’s –”

“Christopher,” Arthur interrupted and walked slowly over to the chairs where Elizaveta and Matthew were sitting. “You birthday is July 1st, you’re five foot nine and a half, you weigh 130 pounds, and your social security number is…04938091…3.”

Arthur sat on a chair adjacent to them and smiled mischievously.

Elizaveta and Matthew both stared at him.

“What? Are you psychic too now?” Elizaveta asked and slapped her hand to her knee.

“No,” Arthur replied casually and looked away.

“Then how did you know all of that?” Matthew asked curiously.

Arthur turned to him, and pulled something out of his pocket. His smile was still in place and he winked.

“I stole your wallet,” He said and tossed it in Matthew’s lap.

Matthew picked it up and looked through it: everything was still there.

“Don’t worry. I didn’t steal anything. I was just curious, that’s all,” Arthur assured him and picked at his nail polish. “Why do you have a fake ID anyway?”

Matthew glanced at Arthur and then looked down and blushed.

“Um, well, to vote of course,” He said and tucked his wallet in his pant pocket.

Arthur rolled his eyes and Elizaveta stood up.

“Alright, I think I’m going to switch out with Francis and send him over here. It can’t be good for those two idiots to be together for too long,” She said and wandered away.

Matthew and Arthur were very quiet when she left.

Matthew stared at the ceiling and wondered about Gilbert, and Arthur fidgeted with his large, black messenger bag.

Not too long after, Francis strolled in looking just as happy as the last time Matthew saw him. When he spotted Arthur however, he stopped and pulled back his hood down again.

Arthur didn’t jump or flinch – he was growing tired of everyone’s happy-go-lucky state – and let Francis laugh and stumble into the seat Elizaveta was just at.

“Look at how cute he is Mathieu,” Francis giggled and looked at Arthur endearingly. “Even with that makeup he looks absolutely precious.”

Arthur didn’t look at him, and just played with a button on his bag.

“May I ask you something Arthur?” Francis tried again, and this time his voice sounded incredibly more convincing. “Why didn’t you dye your hair black?”

Arthur sighed and said, “I have a job.”

“You have a job?” Francis asked, genuinely surprised.

“Yes, frog. A job. Ever heard of it?” Arthur replied sarcastically and kicked his bag to the floor. It made a louder noise than Elizaveta’s bag of weights.

“What kind of job?”

“I, uh,” Arthur closed his eyes in frustration and opened them again. “I work as a waiter.”

“A waiter?” Francis repeated and his scrunched his eyebrows in confusion.

“Damn it – yes! A goddamn waiter!”

Francis paused and looked at Arthur’s furious, flushed face. Why is he so embarrassed about being a waiter?

Something crossed Francis’s mind, and he dared to hope.

“Where?” He asked and watched Arthur’s expression carefully.

“What?” Arthur asked dumbly, and his green eyes met Francis’s confident blue ones.

“Where do you work?” Francis asked again, and his smile grew more sure by the second.

“Well, it’s, um – I…” Arthur trailed off and pounded his fist against the chair. “Damn it, it’s your fucking family’s five-star restaurant, okay?”

“Aha! So you work for me, is that it?” Francis grinned his full smile and watched Arthur with newfound amusement. “Does my father insist you keep your hair pristine?”

“Yes, he does,” Arthur pursed his lips.

“Does he tell you to take off the makeup and the gawdy jewelry?”

“Yes.”

Francis stared at Arthur, and a familiar darkness overtook his heart.

“You should burn the restaurant down,” Francis said and Arthur turned to him quickly.

“What?” Arthur narrowed his eyes and tried to understand Francis’s expression.

“You heard me. Burn it down. I bet you’re tired of him telling you what to do. I know I am,” Francis drawled and leaned back in his chair.

He looked over at Matthew and saw him sleeping.

“Wanker!” Arthur yelled and Francis turned back to him.

Arthur’s green eyes gleamed angrily, and Francis thought he looked rather hurt too.

“At least your parents _care_! At least they talk to you!” Arthur shouted, and Francis frowned. “My parents pretend I don’t exist.”

Arthur glared at Francis one more time before standing up and stalking away.

Francis only sat dumbly for a moment before his instincts kicked in and he chased after him. Arthur was leaning over the bookshelf, his black hood drawn over his head again.

Francis leaned on the other side and muttered, “Hey.”

Arthur watched Francis carefully.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Francis asked and looked back at Arthur just as intently.

“No,” Arthur said and didn’t blink.

“Why not?” Francis folded his arms.

Arthur paused, then replied, “Go away.”

“Where?”

Arthur shrugged his shoulders and turned his attention towards the table again and stared down.

Francis bit his lip in frustration. He didn’t know what to do. _What did Arthur want_?

He clenched and unclenched his fist before heading off in the other direction.

“You have problems,” Arthur said, and Francis turned around.

“ _I_ have problems?” Francis repeated and stepped closer again.

“You don’t think for yourself! You do everything everyone else wants you to do! I mean look at yourself! You don’t even have your own sense of fashion!” Arthur shouted and gestured to Francis’s wardrobe grandly.

“Just because I don’t dye every piece of clothing I own black, that doesn’t mean I don’t have style. Can you say your outfit is Vogue?” Francis snapped back and he felt adrenaline pulse through his veins.

“At least I do what I want! I don’t need some sort of fucking magazine to tell me what to do!” Arthur shouted, and his green eyes shined against the black, matte eyeliner.

Francis pressed his lips together and breathed out.

“Fine, maybe you’re right,” Francis admitted and turned his attention to the floor. “But what about you? What’s your problem?”

Arthur opened his mouth and then closed it again.

Francis sighed and said, “Your parents ignore you, is that it?”

Arthur’s throat tightened and tears bubbled at the corner of his eyes. He gritted his teeth together to keep himself from crying and nodded.

“Yeah,” He choked, and quickly swiped a tear away with his hand.

Francis took a few hesitant steps closer, and Arthur flinched once. When Francis reached him, he slowly snaked his arms around Arthur’s smaller frame, and held him in a hug.

“I’m sorry,” Francis whispered, and he heard Arthur’s voice break into a quiet sob.

Arthur reached around and gripped the back of Francis’s white shirt. He pressed his cheek against Francis’s chest and cries escaped him.

He didn’t mind crying for once. Francis was very comforting: he held Arthur gently, and his shirt smelled of lavender and wine.

 

* * *

 

A while later, Gilbert and Elizaveta grew tired of each other’s company. They realized they could only handle each other alone in small doses. 

So they searched out the others and found Matthew sleeping across two chairs by himself, and Arthur and Francis curled together and asleep across another two.

Elizaveta and Gilbert couldn’t keep their mouth shuts, and when they saw the whole scene they started laughing hysterically. Matthew and Arthur were both light sleepers and at the sound of laughter they shot up. In Arthur’s case, he bolted upright and sent Francis toppling to the floor: thereby waking him up in the same minute.

They decided to get in a circle. After all, they haven’t had a proper conversation with everyone in the group yet. It was more Gilbert’s idea than anyone else’s.

He only had two hours left to talk to Mattie. After today, things will go back to how they always were. Matthew would return to his pleasant, successful nerdy friends, Francis would go back to Antonio and Elizaveta and the popular, sporty kids, and Gilbert…he’d go back to being a loser.

“Lizzie,” Gilbert said and Elizaveta turned away from Francis to look at him. “Why do you play so many sports?”

“Because I’m good at them,” She said simply and adjusted the elastic sleeve of her spandex top.

“But do you have to do three?” Gilbert asked.

“Well, I’ve always done soccer – it’s my best sport. I’ve already been recruited by every big school,” She grinned arrogantly and Gilbert rolled his eyes. “Volleyball’s my number two. I’m still a beast, but I’m not as tall as I could be. I still have several schools offering me scholarships though. Volleyball’s my backup.”

“And javelin? Don’t you think that’s a pretty random sport to pick up?” Gilbert leaned back on his hands and stared.

Elizaveta’s smile faltered.

“Yeah, well that one is more for…fun,” She said and her eyes looked down. “Do you know why I’m here?”

Matthew and Gilbert shook their heads and Arthur and Francis stared.

“I gave a girl a concussion, and a broken nose,” She finished with a half-smile.

Gilbert and Arthur snickered.

“That’s not really new. She’s the fourth one this semester, but apparently I took this girl out for the season and…she lost her scholarship.”

Matthew looked at Elizaveta sadly.

“I don’t know why I did it. I was just angry with my mom and my dad and they kept yelling at me, “Eliza you have to be the best!’” She paused and her grey-green eyes glistened. “So I get aggressive on the field and I just need to hurt something, or someone, and I want to prove to my parents just how strong I can be. And then I do and I just – I end up hurting people more than I expected.”

Elizaveta crossed her legs and played with her shoelaces.

“I knew that girl too. She’s a talented player and came from a pretty poor neighborhood. She needed the scholarship, and without it…Her parents can’t send her to college,” Elizaveta bit her lip and her eyebrows scrunched together. “Part of me wishes some girl would take me out. Give me a concussion. So I couldn’t play soccer and maybe I’d lose my scholarship, and wouldn’t get a ride to play soccer. They’d be so pissed.”

Elizaveta stopped talking and it looked like she was torn between crying and yelling.

Gilbert looked at her empathetically and said, “Maybe our dads should get together and go bowling.”

She looked at Gilbert and laughed lightly. Matthew smiled, and Francis patted Elizaveta’s knee.

“I-it’s kind of like my parents and grades,” Matthew said quietly and everyone turned to him. “I’m not talented like Alfred, so they expect me to have a good GPA and a lot of academic awards, but it’s…it’s so hard.”

Matthew intertwined his fingers together and breathed nervously.

“Mattie,” Gilbert said, and he stared at him intently. “Why are you here?”

Matthew didn’t say anything at first. He stayed silent and looked at his hands.

But when he could tell that Gilbert, or anyone else at this point wasn’t going to relent, he closed his eyes.

“Mr. Laurinaitis found a gun in my locker,” He replied even more quietly than before.

Gilbert felt his heart stop, his breath halt, and his mind go blank. He wanted to say something – he should say something – but his whole body felt numb and faraway.

_His Birdie…with a gun?_

Everyone else seemed just as stunned as he was, and none opened their mouths to say anything.

Then Francis controlled his face in a moment of resolve and asked, “Why’d you have a gun, Mathieu?”

Matthew flicked his eyes to Francis briefly and he looked down ashamed.

“It doesn’t matter,” He muttered.

“Yes, it does. Why’d you have a gun?” Francis pressed, although he felt in his heart he already knew the answer.

Gilbert watched in pain as Matthew clenched his fists and tried to muster up the courage to answer.

Eventually, his quiet, sweet voice said, “I-I tried…but it didn’t work.”

 _No_ , Gilbert thought. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Gilbert left Matthew because he was trouble, he was bad; he didn’t want to bring Matthew down. Gilbert wanted Matthew to be happy; he should be happy.

How could he not be? He’s perfect.

“But,” Gilbert started and he watched Matthew’s frail figure carefully. “ _Why_?”

Matthew finally lifted his eyes up and looked at Gilbert. His deep, indigo eyes were shining, but not crying; and he was trying hard not to break down.

“I couldn’t take it,” He said carefully, annunciating each word. “It was all too much. My parents. My grades. The school…Alfred. Me.” His eyes burned Gilbert. “I couldn’t take it.”

“Why didn’t you ask for help?” Elizaveta asked, and her tone sounded somewhat motherly.

Matthew smiled bitterly and replied, “Who would I have asked?”

Gilbert didn’t think.

“Me,” He said, and Matthew whipped his head around.

“You?” Matthew asked, and Gilbert flinched at the accusation in his voice. “You stopped talking to me years ago. You didn’t want to be my friend.”

“No! No, that’s not true! You don’t understand I –”

“What? Were you ashamed to be around me?” Matthew asked, and now a tear escaped his eye.

Gilbert was growing frustrated and he clawed his hair.

“No, you don’t understand Mattie! I was trying to protect you!”

“By leaving me _alone_?"

“Yes! Well – kind of. I just,” Gilbert paused, and his cheeks were flushed with exasperation. “My dad’s _crazy_ Mattie. When the divorce happened I insisted I live with him, so Ludwig would be safe with mom. But he’s crazy, and angry, and violent and it made me so angry and violent and crazy too! I felt like I was turning in to him!”

Matthew blinked.

“I _am_ turning in to him,” Gilbert finished, and he hit his fist against the wall.

Matthew blinked again, and edged closer to Gilbert.

“No you’re not,” He said calmly, and he reached Gilbert’s side. “You’re passionate, and a bit obnoxious, but you’re not those things.”

Matthew grasped Gilbert’s gloved hand, and smiled genuinely. Gilbert looked at his smile and their touching hands.

“You’re also kind, and a little bit afraid,” Matthew added and squeezed Gilbert’s hand reassuringly. “I think everyone else can see that too.”

“Well, I can definitely vouch for the obnoxious part,” Elizaveta said with a crooked smile. “And I guess you can be pretty funny too.”

“I agree. I think Toni was right when he told me he trusted you,” Francis said.

Arthur bit his nail and said, “I didn’t put a real curse on you, so I obviously don’t hate you.”

Gilbert gawked at him and yelled, “Then what the hell was that ritual for?”

“I thought maybe I could scare you into apologizing. Didn’t work though,” Arthur grinned playfully. “Trust me, you’d know if I put a real curse on you.”

“ _Mon Dieu_ , I can only imagine,” Francis held his hand to his head dramatically.

Gilbert laughed and turned back to Matthew. They were still holding hands.

Matthew caught Gilbert staring, and he quickly retracted his hand and muttered, “Sorry, sorry! I forgot I –”

“No,” Gilbert interrupted quickly and tried to catch Matthew’s eyes. “It’s fine.”

Gilbert a red blush spread over his pale skin and he held out his hand.

Matthew looked at him, and then at his extended hand, and smiled.

 

* * *

 

For a little while longer, Gilbert was able to hang out with them. He stayed near Matthew mostly, and they talked a lot about their good memories in elementary school. 

Francis caught onto the mood fairly quickly, so he went ahead and pulled Arthur and Elizaveta away to do something more fun.

Well, it was more fun for Francis.

When the three of them reached the front of the classroom, Francis quickly skipped over to Elizaveta’s bag and searched through it.

“Hey, why the hell are you digging in my bag for?” She snapped as she put her hands on her hips.

“I need your bag of miracles,” Francis replied and triumphantly pulled out a large, pink bag decorated in a flowery pattern. “Aha!”

“What do you need that for?” Elizaveta asked.

Francis stared at her intently and tried to share his thoughts.

After an extremely awkward fifteen seconds for Arthur, Elizaveta seemed to understand and echoed a loud, “Ooohhh."

“Yes, now I’m going to need your help in holding him down,” Francis said and made eye contact with Arthur.

“Hold who do – HEY! What the bloody hell is going on? Let go of me damn it!” Arthur protested, but Elizaveta’s brute strength pushed him into a chair, and she held his arms securely behind him.

Francis loomed over him, a sinister smile haunting his lips.

“I’m going to give you a makeover,” He said.

Arthur almost screamed.

 

* * *

 

Gilbert snuck out of the classroom to climb through the air vents again; he had to be back before Mr. Braginsky, or he’d be deadmeat. 

Matthew didn’t want him to go, because a part of him was still afraid that they’d stop talking to each other after the day was over. He said that out loud actually, but Gilbert just laughed and reassured him that they’d see each other in half an hour.

So Matthew watched him go a bit sadly, and then wandered over to the strange huddle the other three had made.

Elizaveta caught sight of Matthew and exclaimed, “Hey Mattie, come over here, you have to check this out!”

Matthew kept walking, and reached the front desks to look.

“Oh, wow,” Matthew breathed, and was immediately taken aback. “A-Arthur? Is that you?”

Arthur frowned, and Matthew recognized the angry flash in those green eyes. But he also looked so…different.

All of the eyeliner was gone. Arthur’s eyes were fresh and clean, and it made the green seem less harsh and intimidating. Matthew hadn’t noticed how pronounced his eyebrows were, since they were hidden by his hood, but they didn’t seem out of place. They sort of framed his eyes in a fitting way.

“Who did his hair?” Matthew asked, and he leaned closer to look at Arthur’s face.

“Well, it was sort of a team effort really,” Francis admitted, though it seemed as though it pained him to do so.

“It looks nice,” Matthew said, as his eyes wandered over the gentle, golden locks, parted neatly and styled.

Arthur blushed, and Matthew couldn’t tell if he liked or hated the compliment.

“I don’t like this,” Arthur mumbled, and covered his cheeks with his hands. The black nail polish was gone too. “I feel so…naked.”

“Honhonhon,” Francis laughed and leaned far over the desk. “But is that such a bad thing?”

Arthur glared at him, but his blush remained, and Matthew noticed he made no effort to move away from Francis.

“How much time is left?” Matthew asked suddenly.

Elizaveta checked her sporty watch and said, “Um it’s 3:40. Why?”

She turned towards Matthew, but he had already swung open the door and was jogging away.

“What was that all about?” Elizaveta asked and looked back at Francis.

“Ah, _l’amour_. It takes us all doesn’t it,” Francis glanced at Arthur meaningfully.

Arthur blinked. “What the hell are you looking at me for, frog?”

“Because.” Francis said simply, and closed the gap between them with a fast kiss.

Arthur’s eyes were wide open, and his hands did nothing but sweat in surprise.

Francis didn’t mind though. The fact that Arthur didn’t pull away or push him away was enough; and it made him smile into the kiss.

“Damn it, you guys,” Elizaveta groaned. “Am I the only one who didn’t hook up with a stranger today?”

 

* * *

 

Gilbert sat alone in the closet. 

Usually at this point he was either furiously punching walls, or frozen in fear. But now…he felt happy.

Gilbert picked at the fake leather of his gloves and smiled. He wondered if he should’ve asked Mattie to sit with him at lunch on Monday. I guess he could do it aft–

Gilbert’s thoughts stopped when he heard the door unlock, and then open with a creak.

Matthew’s fair, blonde head appeared, and he quickly slipped in and shut the door behind him. He leaned against it and smiled at Gilbert nervously.

Gilbert stared at him, his grin momentarily disappearing, and then reappearing broader than before.

“You miss me already, Birdie?” Gilbert asked, and pushed himself to his feet.

He took a few steps closer, and crossed his arms. He waited for Matthew to say whatever was on his mind.

But Matthew didn’t say anything.

Gilbert narrowed his eyes in confusion, but Matthew took a step forward, and stretched up to reach Gilbert’s height.

Then softly, he pulled Gilbert’s neck down and met his lips in a kiss.

It didn’t last long, and in a few seconds Matthew pulled away, his hands shaking slightly from the nerves.

Gilbert knew his face was burning – but his emotions have been so haywire today, he stopped paying attention.

“W-why’d you do that?” He asked and looked at Matthew curiously.

“Because I knew you wouldn’t,” Matthew said, and his lips turned up again in a shy smile.

“Oh,” Gilbert mouthed, and he scratched the back of his neck and he chuckled. “Um, Birdie?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you want to have lunch together on Monday, maybe?” Gilbert asked.

Matthew laughed happily and wrapped his arms around Gilbert.

 

* * *

 

 

At the end of detention, Mr. Laurinaitis came by to hand them their cellphones. They didn’t see Mr. Braginsky, but Matthew assumed it was because he was unlocking Gilbert from the basement closet. 

As they walked through the hallway – giddy to be free again – Gilbert stumbled through one of the doors and caught up to them.

They were worried about him, but he came in grinning and laughing, and although it was an annoying, it was contagious. And even Arthur was chuckling when they opened up the front doors.

Francis walked down with Arthur, still floating on air from the kiss. Arthur was still blushing and cursing, but he obviously didn’t mind Francis’s presence.

When Arthur’s mom’s beat up car pulled in, Francis kissed him again on the lips, and this time it was even better because Arthur kissed back.

When they heard the honk, Arthur jumped and kicked the door of the car.

Francis laughed and pulled Arthur’s hand.

“Maybe I’ll see you for dinner?” He asked.

Arthur narrowed his eyes at him in confusion, and then smirked slightly when he understood.

“You better leave a big fucking tip,” He replied, and opened the door to slide in.

Francis waved at him as the car pulled away, and sighed.

In a few more minutes, a pretty, green convertible pulled in, and Antonio honked the horn to get Francis’s attention.

“Eliza, our ride’s here!” Francis called, and Elizaveta finished plugging her number in Matthew’s phone.

She skipped over to the car and hopped over the door and into the backseat.

“Do they need a ride?” Antonio asked and looked over his shoulder.

“Maybe,” Francis said and he turned around. “Gilbert! Mathieu! Do you need a ride?”

The two of them turned around.

“I think we’re good! Matthew’s parents forgot to pick him up, but I’m just going to walk him home,” Gilbert yelled, and Antonio noticed they were holding hands.

“Okay,” Francis replied, and Antonio whispered something in his ear. “Do you want to hang out sometime?”

Gilbert’s heart raced in excitement, but he tried to play it off cool.

“I knew you’d warm up to the awesome me!” He shouted back and gave the car one last wave.

Antonio smiled happily at Francis and started up the car again.

“God, if the three of you become friends, there’s going to be hell for the school,” Elizaveta commented.

“Fusososo,” Antonio laughed and sped the car along. “You think we’ll get a cool nickname?”

Elizaveta thought for a moment and said, “Nah. You’ll probably get something stupid.”

 

* * *

 

Gilbert loved holding Matthew’s hand. 

Even though he was scared shitless this morning, and was tormented in an emotional rollercoaster for hours, he still felt as though this might have been the best day of his life.

He kept chuckling and pressing kisses to Matthew’s cheek as they walked along.

Matthew was just as happy, but he wasn’t quite as vocal about it.

At some point Gilbert suddenly thrust his fist into the air.

“What was that for?” Matthew asked and looked up at Gilbert’s sparkling red eyes.

“I dunno,” He said with a shrug. “Just felt like doing it.”

Matthew giggled and turned away.

“Want to do it with me?” Gilbert squeezed Matthew’s hand and looked at him eagerly.

“Um,” Matthew bit his lip. “Sure.”

“Awesome!” Gilbert said and he clenched his free fist again. “On the count of three.”

“One.”

“Two.”

“Three!”

 

**~End~**

 

 

 **Ending Note:** I wasn't able to fit this in (call it laziness or artistic preference or just I was too busy), but Gilbert was in detention for pulling a fire alarm, Francis was in for skipping classes too often, and Arthur was there because he had nothing better to do on a Saturday.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Whoopee! Done! I had to write this, and now that it's done I can go back to everything else I should've been working on. Yay!
> 
> Thank you so, so much for reading! You're all awesome! If you reviewed that would be wonderful~~~
> 
> And those of you who follow my other stories, I'm going to update soon, I promise! I really freaking promise!
> 
> Til next time~
> 
> (Update 08/29/16: I'm back!! I'm back! Trying to get back into the fanfiction thing and find more fandoms, so hmu on tumblr if you want to hang~ http://spinyfruit.tumblr.com)


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